


Hands-On

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Awkward Crush, Inline with canon, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Pre-Slash, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24406396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: "Kaidou stands very still, staring at the far side of the tennis court and thinking about standing, about relaxing, about keeping his knees from locking and his fingers from curling and his face from heating as Inui’s hands methodically work along his lower leg." Kaidou finds training with Inui more taxing than he anticipated.
Relationships: Inui Sadaharu/Kaidou Kaoru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Hands-On

Inui is waiting for him when Kaidou loops back around the corner of the tennis courts to jog through the last of his assigned ten kilometers. He’s keeping himself occupied, of course, flipping through a notebook held in one hand while he paces through careful lunges up and down the edge of the court, but he rises from the last of these just as Kaidou slows his pace to come past the fence and join him.

“Kaidou,” Inui says, acknowledgment without surprise. He draws a stopwatch from his pocket, pressing the button to halt the count as he lifts it. “You made good time today. You’ve dropped fifteen seconds from your average over the week.” Inui looks back up as he returns the stopwatch to his pocket. “Are you out of breath?”

Kaidou shakes his head. “No.” The back of his neck is slick with sweat and he can feel a dull warmth radiating through his legs, but it has the familiar feel of a good warm-up rather than the pounding heart and struggling breath of too-much exertion.

Inui’s mouth turns up at the corner. “Good,” he says. “You’re hitting the pace I want you to. Keep this same rhythm for your longer runs too, there’s no need to push yourself and risk an injury.” He makes a notation in the book in his hand before closing it and tucking it away. “I’m going to check on your condition before starting you on stretching.”

Kaidou’s throat tightens, his breath sticking in his chest, but he manages a nod. After a minute he can even get voice enough to struggle into a “Yeah” abbreviated into the terseness that most people take for aggression.

Inui doesn’t so much as flinch. “Alright,” he says, and steps forward towards Kaidou. Kaidou holds himself still, his hands slack at his sides and his heart racing in his chest while Inui closes the few feet of distance between them. Kaidou would have to turn his head up to keep his gaze on Inui’s glasses, but he doesn’t lift his chin from the fixed stare he’s sustaining with the line of the other’s shoulder. If Inui notices he doesn’t say anything; he just draws up in front of Kaidou, stepping in until they’re almost toe-to-toe, before he pulls a foot back so he can take a knee before the other.

Kaidou doesn’t move as Inui kneels in front of him, doesn’t turn his head to look down or acknowledge the position in any way. His focus is fixed on the far side of the court, against the interlocking diamonds of the chain-link fence, and he keeps it there as Inui reaches out to press a palm against the back of Kaidou’s calf.

“You have good flexibility,” Inui tells him. His hand shifts against the back of Kaidou’s leg to follow the line of the muscle in question. “No sign of knots even at the end of the run. That’s good.”

There’s a touch against Kaidou’s ankle, Inui’s fingers sliding under the elastic of his sock to press against the knob of the joint. Kaidou stands very still, staring at the far side of the tennis court and thinking about standing, about relaxing, about keeping his knees from locking and his fingers from curling and his face from heating as Inui’s hands methodically work along his lower leg.

“Hm,” Inui hums. His thumb presses against the back of Kaidou’s heel, working into the flex of the tendon there. “You have a little more heat along this ankle than I’d like.”

Kaidou swallows to clear his throat. “Is that a problem?”

“Let me check the other.” Inui’s hands lift from Kaidou’s skin but their imprint remains, glowing radiant in Kaidou’s awareness as tingling self-consciousness lingers through the professional appraisal Inui’s fingers make of his right ankle. “It looks like it’s just the left side. Try icing when you get home in three ten-minute intervals. If it keeps up we can add a compress while you’re training to keep ahead of any problems.” Inui presses his fingers in against the side of Kaidou’s ankle, the pressure demanding but gentle as he feels out the shape of the joint. “Next week I want you to switch to running alongside the river, down on the dirt paths or on the track instead of pavement.”

Kaidou nods before realizing that Inui isn’t looking at him and working through the effort that comes with finding the breath for words. “Okay.”

“Let’s see.” Inui’s palm curves up the back of Kaidou’s leg, sliding along the shape of muscle against the other’s calf as his thumb traces the front of Kaidou’s shin. Kaidou can feel the drag of Inui’s touch across the hairs on his leg as the other fits both hands around Kaidou’s knee and press his thumbs in gently at the sides of the kneecap. “Your knee feels solid. That cramp from last week didn’t come back, did it?”

Kaidou shakes his head. “No.”

“That’s good.” Inui moves to repeat his inspection at Kaidou’s other knee. Kaidou tries to force his attention to weave between the squares of the distant fence instead of following the casual brace of Inui’s fingers at the back of his thigh as he inspects Kaidou’s left knee. Inui’s right index finger is fractionally higher than his left; Kaidou can feel his heartbeat pulsing hot under the friction of Inui’s hold.

“Nothing wrong on this side either. You’ve been keeping up on those stretches I wrote up for you?” Kaidou jerks his chin into a nod and Inui’s hands ease from his leg as the other touches his fingers to the ground to push to his feet. Even with the contact gone Kaidou’s skin is flushed to heat he can feel tingling all across his calves and up the backs of his thighs; with Inui standing in front of him he has to duck his head forward so he can hide some part of the color in his cheeks from the always-observant glow of the other’s glasses.

“Let’s see how that serve practice has been treating you.” Inui reaches out to catch Kaidou’s elbow in the cradle of one hand; Kaidou lets his arm go slack, or at least makes the effort. It’s hard to do when his body is illuminating itself with adrenaline in answer to the print of Inui’s touch against his skin, however calmly professional that contact may be. Kaidou turns his head away so he can look to the other side of the practice courts and tells himself it’s someone else working gentle pressure against the joint of his elbow and along the length of his forearm, his mother or a doctor or anyone other than the senpai turning such inexplicable attention to Kaidou’s success.

There’s nothing flirtatious about Inui’s touch, as far as Kaidou can tell. He is entirely composed, almost clinical as his fingers map Kaidou’s bicep and draw down to test the flex of his wrist; but the conscious awareness of that makes no difference whatsoever to the shivering heat that is running itself up and down Kaidou’s spine with every new point of contact. Inui is deliberate, and efficient, and so thorough that by the time he has let Kaidou’s left arm go Kaidou’s skin is aching as if with a sunburn of oversensitivity just from the print of Inui’s fingertips against him.

“Good,” Inui says, with so much approval on his voice that Kaidou glances up at him before he can stop himself. He must still be flushed, he can feel the heat burning all across his cheeks and parting uncontrolled softness at his lips, but Inui’s smile doesn’t waver from its composed approval as Kaidou looks up at him. “You’ve been keeping to the training menu I wrote up for you. I thought you might overdo it.”

Kaidou works his throat until he can rasp something like words free from his chest. “You said I shouldn’t.” He swallows and makes another attempt at clarity. “Since you’re tracking my progress.”

Inui beams. “That’s right,” he says. “I wasn’t sure you would listen.” He lifts a hand to gesture a circle in the air. Kaidou stares, too overwhelmed by fighting back his own reaction to make sense of it until Inui sets a hand at his shoulder and pulls to urge him into movement. Kaidou’s face blisters with embarrassment and he turns at once, a little faster than he should so he stumbles and has to catch himself with a hand against the fence in front of him before Inui’s hold on his shoulder steadies him back to balance.

“I’m glad you did,” Inui says. His voice sounds lower when Kaidou can’t see his face, or maybe it really is a little deeper, a little warmer with approval. Kaidou stares at his fingers caught in the fence and feels his pulse thrumming so fast he feels dizzy with it. Inui’s hand flexes a little tighter to squeeze gratitude at Kaidou’s shoulder. “I was right to trust you with this.” His hold lingers for a moment, warm and firm and impossibly steady compared to the pounding of Kaidou’s heart in his chest; and then it eases, and Inui’s palm slides down to map the curve of Kaidou’s back instead.

“You’ve gained more lean muscle along your waist,” Inui says. His thumb fits against the dip of Kaidou’s spine; his outstretched fingers are brushing the bottom curve of Kaidou’s ribs. It would be ticklish, Kaidou thinks, if he weren’t already so impossibly tense from the contact of Inui’s hands against his body that he’s already on the verge of shuddering from every shift of fingers. “Those extra core exercises are paying off. You’ll be able to put this to good use in your next match.”

Inui’s hands come down, his palms catch to hesitate just over Kaidou’s hips. For a brief moment of perfect insanity Kaidou imagines Inui’s hands pulling, the force of them drawing him back over the polite gap between them to stumble against Inui’s chest, to fall into the support of the other standing so steady behind him. Kaidou thinks of lifting his slack hand from his side, of fitting his own fingers around Inui’s wrist, of turning his head and lifting his chin and shutting his eyes to—

“Kaidou.”

Kaidou blinks sharply to force himself back to reality. His breathing is coming fast even with his lips pressed tight together; he can feel tremors trying to shiver down his arm at his side and weaken his knees. He works through the effort of swallowing with careful, conscious attention. “Yeah.”

“Would you mind taking your shirt off?” Inui’s voice is level, calm with the same professional distance that has guided the press of his hands against Kaidou’s skin and the objective analysis in his speech. There is only the faintest touch of apology to the question, the barest acknowledgment of the self-consciousness that he might receive in answer. “It will be easier for me to see how you’re progressing.”

Kaidou is more grateful than words can express that Inui is standing behind and not in front of him, that the expression on his face remains unseen by anyone and especially by the direct cause of it. As it is there is no one to see him shut his eyes, or draw a deliberate breath before he can trust himself to speak in anything like a level tone.

“Sure.” He lets his hold on the fence go and strips his shirt up over his head before he can give himself a chance to think about the shift of movement across his back and the extent of skin he’s laying bare for Inui’s gaze. It’s not like he hasn’t been shirtless around the other before, he tells himself, not like he hasn’t worn significantly less even than the shorts and tennis shoes he currently has on; but sharing the crowded space of the locker room is a far cry from the present, with Kaidou’s heart racing and knees shaky and body flushing hot just from the anticipation of Inui’s attention turning to it.

“Ah,” Inui breathes, and lifts a hand from Kaidou’s hip to touch to the space just between his shoulderblades. “Perfect. Thank you, Kaidou.”

Kaidou doesn’t try to answer. It’s more than he can manage, no matter how brief he might keep his reply, and Inui’s fingertips are tracing down the middle of his back and he can feel the friction radiating out through his body, clasping around his chest and spilling into his belly and catching to greater heat than he can hope to talk himself out of. He bunches his shirt in his hands, crumpling it together so he can hold it in front of him and stare down at the cover it provides as Inui goes on touching his back.

“You’ve been gaining muscle in the last weeks,” Inui says approvingly. “Not too bulky, either. That’s good, it’s the lean power you’ll need for your play. You’ve been sticking to the functional exercises I gave you, I see.” His palm slides along Kaidou’s side, his fingertips brushing against the curve of the other’s ribs, and Kaidou shuts his eyes and breathes in open-mouthed silence through the rush of sensation that shivers out across him with too much heat to be the ticklishness it resembles.

“Your support muscles are looking good too,” Inui continues, utterly oblivious to the tremor in the hands Kaidou has fisted on the shirt he’s bracing in front of his hips and speaking with the same clinical attention he might turn to a page of notes or a new racket. “Now that you have the strength for it you can increase your practice swings by 15% and cut back on the additional crunches. Keep an eye on the line of your shoulders” as he sets his other hand flat at Kaidou’s shoulder and presses to demonstrate. “Do your regular amount tomorrow morning and save the additional sets for the end of the day. I’ll watch you for the first week to make sure your form doesn’t start to slip as you get to the last of them.”

“Okay,” Kaidou rasps.

“Good.” Inui draws his hands across Kaidou’s shoulders one more time, shifting his fingers to spread out across the span of the other’s shoulderblades; and then he steps back, and the weight of his hands lifts away as well. It takes Kaidou a minute to compose himself enough to glance back over his shoulder, even with the shadow of his hair to disguise his expression, and when he does he finds Inui smiling at him, the expression as bright as the inevitable shine off his glasses.

“You’ve been doing very well, Kaidou,” Inui says. His voice is warm and soft with pride that tightens Kaidou’s chest on something keener even than the arousal he’s hiding behind his balled-up shirt. “It’s a pleasure to see your dedication. I’m grateful for the opportunity to see you achieve some of your potential.”

Kaidou is already glowing with heat enough that he thinks his whole body ought to be colored pink, but Inui’s words burn to a crimson flush of embarrassment greater even than what he has already mustered on his own. For a moment he just stares, his face alight with self-consciousness before he can collect himself enough to duck his head forward and hide his expression. He stares at the shirt in his hands, his heart pounding overfast in his chest, and he’s just realizing that he ought to say something in response when there’s the press of a hand to his shoulder and Inui speaks again.

“I’ll head on to the locker room,” he says. “Make sure you don’t do any more training today, alright?” Kaidou ducks his head farther forward into a rough approximation of a nod and Inui lifts his hand away. Kaidou can hear the sound of his footsteps as Inui turns and starts to move away; and it’s then that he finds his breath and speaks too-loud and without lifting his head.

“Thanks.” Inui’s footsteps stop. Kaidou doesn’t look back up but he’s sure Inui is looking at him, he imagines he can feel the focus of the other’s eyes against his forward-hunched shoulders. He draws a breath and feels his face start to burn even before he forces the words past his lips. “Thanks for helping me, senpai.”

There is the soft sound of an exhale, of surprise or maybe of gentle amusement. “Of course,” Inui says. “It’s a pleasure to work with you, Kaidou.” Another pause, barely a heartbeat of silence as Kaidou feels Inui’s gaze lingering on him; and then there’s the scuff of a shoe against the court, and Inui moves away again. “I’m looking forward to seeing your progress.”

Kaidou stands still on the court, his head ducked down over the shirt still clutched in his hands. He doesn’t turn as he listens to Inui moving away, doesn’t look back until long seconds have passed. When he does it’s on instinct, a reflex too great to be overcome that pulls his attention up to find Inui as the other pulls open the door to the clubroom. Inui’s back is to Kaidou, he’s at enough of a distance that he can’t possibly see the other’s movement; but he still turns to look back as easily as if Kaidou had shouted his name. Kaidou freezes, caught off-guard in his own attention, but Inui just looks at him from behind his shining glasses, gazing for a long moment before he smiles wide enough for Kaidou to see it from the court and lifts a hand into a wave. He doesn’t wait for Kaidou to untangle his hands enough to offer a reply; he just turns and vanishes into the club room, leaving Kaidou standing on the tennis court with his hands fisted in his shirt, and his knees shaky with adrenaline, and his whole body shivering hot with the print of Inui’s fingers against his skin.


End file.
